Friday, October 31, 2014
Crocheting helps with depression
http://crochet.about.com/od/Crochet-Health/fl/How-Crochet-Helps-With-10-Symptoms-of-Depression.htm
Thursday, October 30, 2014
The Female Dilemma of Love
A push and pull between future and fate
Desire pulls while the intellect pushes
A soft ground on which to lay
Warmth, comfort, intense sadness and despair
Are the whiplashes of joy worth the price
When comes the roller-coasters of indecision?
Would it be any different if I were alone
I know it would
It's a baseline which one has control
Rolling, rolling along in homeostasis
Your ups and downs attaching to whatever's available
Or unattached in a sea of calmed thoughts
Desire pulls while the intellect pushes
A soft ground on which to lay
Warmth, comfort, intense sadness and despair
Are the whiplashes of joy worth the price
When comes the roller-coasters of indecision?
Would it be any different if I were alone
I know it would
It's a baseline which one has control
Rolling, rolling along in homeostasis
Your ups and downs attaching to whatever's available
Or unattached in a sea of calmed thoughts
Saturday, October 11, 2014
A flow of thoughts from Grandma's house
When the light is soft & white/grey, I feel light & the sound of quiet infiltrates my desires, soothing my expectations I had of myself or those interactions of everyday life that suck your life force arid and salty. Life slows down & I wonder how it got so fast in the first place. Why does it feel so hard to maintain a sense of sanity & disposition? Racing around investing in what you thought was a dream, but now you're not so sure. Living a life that you thought was a thing but now it's just a blur. In sickness & health but what if sickness lasts forever. These are pessimist's thoughts, I know, they are my inner doubt. He has much to say & is closer to my core. My optimistic side bubbles & sizzles around my body, trying to diffuse the environment, inspire it, catch fire to it, down right exert some control. Controlled, controlling...Who's got the gear shift, ears lifted for the answer because it's so criss-cross & befuddled. We're all in trouble. "Don't muddle it up," said the parents. "Do it correctly," said the teachers. Is it okay to be a meat eater? Are we supposed to drink 1 or 2 litres? Stop watching, start creating the movies in the theatres! Maybe you could invent your own solar-powered winter heater. "It's up to you now," said the crooked ladies with highbrows, while their round-bellied husbands sat back & recited facts, dozing in & out of conversations never really sure of their destinations, but calling out clearly their frustrations. I'm right your wrong tug-of-wars breaking out, us little ones getting down on all fours, under the table. Not wishing to be called upon to clear this detailed fable. Rushing out to the bathroom or "oh just going to spend some time in my room." Going out fro a breath of fresh air, experiencing a change of scenery. Something to get me to where my mind is cleared, my voice is loud, my stance is strong & I'm proud of myself for getting with it. For taking the higher road rather than spitting out my core of pessimistic attitudes on the surrounding suckers.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
I never wanted to be a crazy girlfriend...
I never wanted to be a crazy girlfriend, but as time goes on I realize that the crazy in me will come out at times one way or another and the best I can do is accept it. The more I try to resist and chastise myself for acting "crazily", the crazier I will become. There is just something about being in a relationship, or romantic interactions in general, that brings out some irrational and irreconcilable part of myself that I cannot predict or seemingly control. I get highly emotional, threatening, and dramatic. I am working on it, but have to be patient with myself in order to do so, and it is a slow process. Thankfully my partner has "a mature and patient love" for me, so he helps me to accept my own crazy.
Here I will confess some of my sins:
-irrational upset when partner doesn't answer phone
-fury upon partner not doing something he said he would, however small
-nagging of partner to stop smoking/drinking so much without empathy to habits changing slowly
I've always had this little perfectionist inside me that is constantly nagging me to be better, eat better, live better, and also have the perfect partner. I know that perfection is not possible and if I could I would quietly kill her in her sleep and then I could live a less stressful life overall, but unfortunately it is not by knife or suffocation that she can be exterminated. Only by slow and patient reminders to myself and reflection upon the ways I have changed and dealt with my crazy. The times I've realized that I'm bored and restless and I start thinking "why the F*** isn't he answering his phone", that I catch myself and do something fun. I don't need to rely on my partner for my entertainment and to keep occupied. In fact, that would likely lead to the downfall of our partnership. Just sharing your life with someone brings all your shortcomings into your consciousness because you have another set of eyes observing your innermost thoughts and behaviours.
I think I'm on the right track, just have to remember to breathe.
Here I will confess some of my sins:
-irrational upset when partner doesn't answer phone
-fury upon partner not doing something he said he would, however small
-nagging of partner to stop smoking/drinking so much without empathy to habits changing slowly
I've always had this little perfectionist inside me that is constantly nagging me to be better, eat better, live better, and also have the perfect partner. I know that perfection is not possible and if I could I would quietly kill her in her sleep and then I could live a less stressful life overall, but unfortunately it is not by knife or suffocation that she can be exterminated. Only by slow and patient reminders to myself and reflection upon the ways I have changed and dealt with my crazy. The times I've realized that I'm bored and restless and I start thinking "why the F*** isn't he answering his phone", that I catch myself and do something fun. I don't need to rely on my partner for my entertainment and to keep occupied. In fact, that would likely lead to the downfall of our partnership. Just sharing your life with someone brings all your shortcomings into your consciousness because you have another set of eyes observing your innermost thoughts and behaviours.
I think I'm on the right track, just have to remember to breathe.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Routines with grandma
Visiting a 92 year old woman is a respite from the busy noisy responsibility of city life. At grandma's house, every activity is an event on its own. From having a conversation to grocery shopping, a break is necessary on the way or in between and there is always a nap. I find myself following her routine like a disciple, hungrily awaiting the next lesson of life's simplicity. Where life is full of ice cream and reading books, I really cannot complain and am throughly enjoying myself. I am currently reading 4 books at the same time :)
I have recently been looking into working in the field of wilderness therapy, the act of isolating oneself to bring out true emotions and work through situations that one needs to build perspective on. Being here has done the same: clarified thoughts, given me time to think and cry, to breathe, to remember how to relax, to make decisions and consider options for my future. The wilderness of grandma's house.
We laugh and talk and I tell her about the internet, while she tells me about "fast" girls in her generation. She is fascinated by certain aspects of my life, while I wish she were more interested in others, and we play cards. Games always bring out a different aspect of a person that is delightful to experience. Teasing, name calling and self depreciation ensues. It feels like the most important thing in the world that you win that round for an hour or 2, and a wrong move can sting well after the game.
But one of the most valuable things that comes plentifully at grandma's house is unconditional love. The generation removed really clears the stresses of having grown up in the same house as someone and having spent some of my favourite summers here gives me a sense of youthful happiness. I remember tasting macintosh apples for the first time, going to the farms and picking berries, and delicious raisin bran muffins from the oven.
Grandma can't do a lot of these things anymore, she can't stand long enough to bake, she can't drive to the farms, or even bite into an apple. But it doesn't matter because I get to do those things for her now. She made my life better and I enjoy every opportunity to do the same for her.
I have recently been looking into working in the field of wilderness therapy, the act of isolating oneself to bring out true emotions and work through situations that one needs to build perspective on. Being here has done the same: clarified thoughts, given me time to think and cry, to breathe, to remember how to relax, to make decisions and consider options for my future. The wilderness of grandma's house.
We laugh and talk and I tell her about the internet, while she tells me about "fast" girls in her generation. She is fascinated by certain aspects of my life, while I wish she were more interested in others, and we play cards. Games always bring out a different aspect of a person that is delightful to experience. Teasing, name calling and self depreciation ensues. It feels like the most important thing in the world that you win that round for an hour or 2, and a wrong move can sting well after the game.
But one of the most valuable things that comes plentifully at grandma's house is unconditional love. The generation removed really clears the stresses of having grown up in the same house as someone and having spent some of my favourite summers here gives me a sense of youthful happiness. I remember tasting macintosh apples for the first time, going to the farms and picking berries, and delicious raisin bran muffins from the oven.
Grandma can't do a lot of these things anymore, she can't stand long enough to bake, she can't drive to the farms, or even bite into an apple. But it doesn't matter because I get to do those things for her now. She made my life better and I enjoy every opportunity to do the same for her.
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
Surviving relationships, making relationships survive
When I was in my early teens I used to cry to my mother that I would never have a boyfriend, no one would ever love me. To this day, I'm not completely sure where these thoughts came from and why I was so distraught about them. It could've been because I was being bullied in school, or that my mother was at the height of her career and didn't have as much time for me as I would have liked, that I was having a difficult time having a positive relationship with my deaf father or because my best friend moved away. It was most likely a combination of all of those things, but translated into a desperate desire to be loved, not just by anyone, but by a boy.
What followed was a series of both positive and negative interactions with boys, as I tried to navigate the waters of love. My definition of love was very much entrenched in the idea of being sexy, or sexually appealing. If someone were to want to have sex with me, then they must love me. Or so I thought at the time. Because I wanted to be loved so badly, I became indiscriminate about who I let have sex with me. And I would this purposefully, "who I let have sex with me", because these sexual encounters were a far cry from two people having sex together and very much me mentally checking out while someone did things to my body that I selectively chose to remember.
Eventually one of my first reality checks was with a guy whom I had a mutual crush on for a few years, since the beginning of university. We had communicated over instant messaging over the years and hung out from time to time and finally we decided to have the sex. Afterwards, I convinced myself that it was a positive and very intimate and wonderful experience, but a few days later he let it be known to me that it was very uncomfortable and negative for him. Reflecting upon it I know that he was right and that I was in the habit of shutting off and twisting around what happened. It was a fantasy world that I lived in. Unfortunately he was hurt by this experience and decided to humiliate me to get back at me.
But I would like to highlight my more positive experiences and this man ultimately did me a favour by pointing out the truth, that I was living in a false reality that was not bringing me joy or satisfaction. The truth will set you free and that was a turning point that started an upswing in my efforts to lead a more healthy and happy sexual existence.
This effort was not without many more mistakes to come, as one does not change one's habits overnight. There were times I beat myself up because now I knew better and how could I still get caught in the same traps as I had before. One big element that needed to be evaluated was the amount of alcohol that I consumed. I didn't consider myself a big drinker, and it seemed as if the people around me consumed as much, if not more than I did. But my biggest reality check with my drinking was dating Tom. Tom was from Germany where the drinking age is much lower. I'm not sure if this is why or he just spent time with more wholesome friends, but he had never thrown up or gotten sick from drinking. This was a shock to me. Hadn't everyone in the world blacked out and thrown up and generally been irresponsible through the means of alcohol?
Apparently not, and not only that, but as our relationship progressed i began sharing some elements of my sexual past with him and he was shocked into silence. He seemed to be more impacted by my experiences than even I was. At the time this felt tedious and annoying because he gave me the silent treatment and ruminated for hours about how badly I was treated, his "precious rose". It caused him much pain. Sometimes pain is too much to experience oneself and the only way to deal with it is to watch someone else have the "appropriate" emotions for you. I know this because I have done the same for another of my friends.
But again this seemingly negative time was actually again a catalyst for me to come to terms with things and move forward with my life. Since Tom,I have had more positive than negative sexual experiences, become a lot more monogamous, and drank much less.
And now I am in a self proclaimed monogamous highly communicative relationship with a wonderful man. Hard work really does pay off.
What followed was a series of both positive and negative interactions with boys, as I tried to navigate the waters of love. My definition of love was very much entrenched in the idea of being sexy, or sexually appealing. If someone were to want to have sex with me, then they must love me. Or so I thought at the time. Because I wanted to be loved so badly, I became indiscriminate about who I let have sex with me. And I would this purposefully, "who I let have sex with me", because these sexual encounters were a far cry from two people having sex together and very much me mentally checking out while someone did things to my body that I selectively chose to remember.
Eventually one of my first reality checks was with a guy whom I had a mutual crush on for a few years, since the beginning of university. We had communicated over instant messaging over the years and hung out from time to time and finally we decided to have the sex. Afterwards, I convinced myself that it was a positive and very intimate and wonderful experience, but a few days later he let it be known to me that it was very uncomfortable and negative for him. Reflecting upon it I know that he was right and that I was in the habit of shutting off and twisting around what happened. It was a fantasy world that I lived in. Unfortunately he was hurt by this experience and decided to humiliate me to get back at me.
But I would like to highlight my more positive experiences and this man ultimately did me a favour by pointing out the truth, that I was living in a false reality that was not bringing me joy or satisfaction. The truth will set you free and that was a turning point that started an upswing in my efforts to lead a more healthy and happy sexual existence.
This effort was not without many more mistakes to come, as one does not change one's habits overnight. There were times I beat myself up because now I knew better and how could I still get caught in the same traps as I had before. One big element that needed to be evaluated was the amount of alcohol that I consumed. I didn't consider myself a big drinker, and it seemed as if the people around me consumed as much, if not more than I did. But my biggest reality check with my drinking was dating Tom. Tom was from Germany where the drinking age is much lower. I'm not sure if this is why or he just spent time with more wholesome friends, but he had never thrown up or gotten sick from drinking. This was a shock to me. Hadn't everyone in the world blacked out and thrown up and generally been irresponsible through the means of alcohol?
Apparently not, and not only that, but as our relationship progressed i began sharing some elements of my sexual past with him and he was shocked into silence. He seemed to be more impacted by my experiences than even I was. At the time this felt tedious and annoying because he gave me the silent treatment and ruminated for hours about how badly I was treated, his "precious rose". It caused him much pain. Sometimes pain is too much to experience oneself and the only way to deal with it is to watch someone else have the "appropriate" emotions for you. I know this because I have done the same for another of my friends.
But again this seemingly negative time was actually again a catalyst for me to come to terms with things and move forward with my life. Since Tom,I have had more positive than negative sexual experiences, become a lot more monogamous, and drank much less.
And now I am in a self proclaimed monogamous highly communicative relationship with a wonderful man. Hard work really does pay off.
Friday, March 28, 2014
Monday, February 17, 2014
Saturday, February 15, 2014
New Website
I haven't been posting lately because I started up my new website, which if you're interested in doulas or birth you most definitely should check out…
http://www.nature-born.com
http://www.nature-born.com
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Random thoughts about Portland
I am in Portland. It's been a few days and I'm adjusting well. Taking deep breaths through the hard parts, like the cold and mostly the cold. I'm going to win this battle through. That's what it feels like, a battle. See I got a very cheap place to live and I know that this is part of the consequences: being crafty. I figure this is good training. I'm learning how to survive in a new kind of climate. Canada trained me a little with it's -30 C, but now I need to learn cold temperatures in Fahrenheit and USA.
It's always hard to move to a new city socially. It takes time to get to know people, repeated visits, familiarity. It's disorienting at times, literally. It's impossible to predict what's going to happen. You don't even know what's 2 blocks over from where you live for a while.
But I did find a DIY bicycle shop and I'm working on getting in with them. My love of bicycles helps guide me to positive social interaction. It's interesting getting to know people surrounding a particular hobby. You get to slowly piece together their personality and you both are standing side by side fixing bikes. My hands are black and have little cuts all over them. The signs of hard work and bicycles.
I work at a pizza shop. In exchange for my rent. I like it. It feels like I'm not spending money. Although I am spending money because there are so many restaurants to try, and it's too cold in my house to cook. So I'm giving myself permission to eat what I want, because it helps me cope, with the cold.
I enjoy talking to strangers. When you don't have many friends to socialize with, then it's easy to launch into personal conversations with Joe on the street and social interactions are more cherished.
The library is a wonderful place. It's warm, it has free internet, water, bathroom. You don't have to buy anything. There is endless entertainment. The librarians have always been friendly and helpful to me. It's one the best resources you can utilize when moving to a new city. They have the answer. And if they don't, they will likely find it for you.
If you didn't guess already, that is where I am currently and I feel like it's helping to win this battle against the cold. 2 points team Rose! The only problem is that you can't eat, so I went into the bathroom to sneak a couple of bites of burrito that I got on my walk over here. Kinda gross maybe, but the burrito was delicious and my tummy is full. This burrito is the size of my head, I got it at one of the food trucks that Portland is famous for. It will last me the day as far as what I need for food and it's stuffed with such a variety of things: cilantro, egg, potato, beans, cheese, onions. Everything I need. A library and a burrito.
It's always hard to move to a new city socially. It takes time to get to know people, repeated visits, familiarity. It's disorienting at times, literally. It's impossible to predict what's going to happen. You don't even know what's 2 blocks over from where you live for a while.
But I did find a DIY bicycle shop and I'm working on getting in with them. My love of bicycles helps guide me to positive social interaction. It's interesting getting to know people surrounding a particular hobby. You get to slowly piece together their personality and you both are standing side by side fixing bikes. My hands are black and have little cuts all over them. The signs of hard work and bicycles.
I work at a pizza shop. In exchange for my rent. I like it. It feels like I'm not spending money. Although I am spending money because there are so many restaurants to try, and it's too cold in my house to cook. So I'm giving myself permission to eat what I want, because it helps me cope, with the cold.
I enjoy talking to strangers. When you don't have many friends to socialize with, then it's easy to launch into personal conversations with Joe on the street and social interactions are more cherished.
The library is a wonderful place. It's warm, it has free internet, water, bathroom. You don't have to buy anything. There is endless entertainment. The librarians have always been friendly and helpful to me. It's one the best resources you can utilize when moving to a new city. They have the answer. And if they don't, they will likely find it for you.
If you didn't guess already, that is where I am currently and I feel like it's helping to win this battle against the cold. 2 points team Rose! The only problem is that you can't eat, so I went into the bathroom to sneak a couple of bites of burrito that I got on my walk over here. Kinda gross maybe, but the burrito was delicious and my tummy is full. This burrito is the size of my head, I got it at one of the food trucks that Portland is famous for. It will last me the day as far as what I need for food and it's stuffed with such a variety of things: cilantro, egg, potato, beans, cheese, onions. Everything I need. A library and a burrito.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
An amazing travel blog worth a read
Across Russia, through Mongolia…the adventure starts here
My friend and former roommate Matthew Richard Edward German is one of the most adventurous people I've met so far and he did us the favour of documenting one such adventure via wordpress. One day he will cure cancer, he's just that kind of guy.
http://throughthesewideeyes.wordpress.com
My friend and former roommate Matthew Richard Edward German is one of the most adventurous people I've met so far and he did us the favour of documenting one such adventure via wordpress. One day he will cure cancer, he's just that kind of guy.
http://throughthesewideeyes.wordpress.com
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
What I Want From Sex
As a celibate being (http://softpinkpetals.blogspot.ca/2013/12/celibacy.html), I have a lot of time to think about sex outside of the throes of having it. Therefore, a lot of time to fantasize about what I want sex to look like once I start having it again. I believe that there is a lot more possibility to sex than I have experienced. I have seen flashes of what is possible through my various relationships and the occasional one night stand that worked out well. I remember one particular experience with my 2nd boyfriend, whom I had my 1st good sex with. He was going down on me and knew that I was about to have an orgasm and so he slowed down to draw out the experience and make it more intense. I haven't had a similar experience since then, and that was 10 years ago.
One thing I know for sure is that I would like both my partner and I to experience many orgasms with each other before any penis in vagina action. I would like us to become well acquainted with one another, first mentally, then physically. I guess what I'm looking for is a relationship really, but not like the relationships I've had in the past. I feel ready to hold out until someone worthwhile comes along and rocks my boat. It gives me time to work on my own projects without having to share my mind-space with another person. One such project being my sexuality, others being music, art, and perhaps a career in midwifery.
Why did I always feel this rush to have sex in the past? I felt that once I started flirting with someone, that I was supposed to have sex with them. I know that this behavior was often the direct result of low self-esteem and alcohol, but those are not the only pieces to the puzzle. While I was on my cross Canada train adventure (http://kauaiianvagabond.blogspot.ca/2014/01/toronto-to-vancouver-on-train.html) I had an interesting experience with a fellow. We were getting a bit close one the train physically, snuggling up to each other and such, when one the 3rd day he asked if he could kiss me. I didn't immediately say yes because I was not sure that was what I wanted from the situation, but we further discussed it and even cleared up what he meant. I had assumed that by saying he wanted to kiss me, that it would automatically turn into a make-out session. He told me that kissing was different from making-out and that a simple, but intimate, kiss would be satisfying. And so, with clear communication about the situation, I felt quite comfortable engaging in this way with him and did not regret the experience.
Another conclusion that I have been able to come to by limiting my physical interactions, is the realization that the feeling of caring about someone does not only come from having sex with them. The same feelings can be built off of a mental connection and the conscious decision not to have a physical relationship. And in these instances I think the feeling of caring is much more strong and stable and causes me much less stress.
One thing I know for sure is that I would like both my partner and I to experience many orgasms with each other before any penis in vagina action. I would like us to become well acquainted with one another, first mentally, then physically. I guess what I'm looking for is a relationship really, but not like the relationships I've had in the past. I feel ready to hold out until someone worthwhile comes along and rocks my boat. It gives me time to work on my own projects without having to share my mind-space with another person. One such project being my sexuality, others being music, art, and perhaps a career in midwifery.
Why did I always feel this rush to have sex in the past? I felt that once I started flirting with someone, that I was supposed to have sex with them. I know that this behavior was often the direct result of low self-esteem and alcohol, but those are not the only pieces to the puzzle. While I was on my cross Canada train adventure (http://kauaiianvagabond.blogspot.ca/2014/01/toronto-to-vancouver-on-train.html) I had an interesting experience with a fellow. We were getting a bit close one the train physically, snuggling up to each other and such, when one the 3rd day he asked if he could kiss me. I didn't immediately say yes because I was not sure that was what I wanted from the situation, but we further discussed it and even cleared up what he meant. I had assumed that by saying he wanted to kiss me, that it would automatically turn into a make-out session. He told me that kissing was different from making-out and that a simple, but intimate, kiss would be satisfying. And so, with clear communication about the situation, I felt quite comfortable engaging in this way with him and did not regret the experience.
Another conclusion that I have been able to come to by limiting my physical interactions, is the realization that the feeling of caring about someone does not only come from having sex with them. The same feelings can be built off of a mental connection and the conscious decision not to have a physical relationship. And in these instances I think the feeling of caring is much more strong and stable and causes me much less stress.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
My Heart
The mountains encase my heart
In a thick layer of sediment and lava rock
Unpenetrable to the strongest drills
The most powerful explosives
My heart is mine
Not something to be harvested
I don't believe in taking something
that is not yours to take
If it is offered
Accept gracefully
Gently &
appreciatively
Take care to show the respect
which it deserves
For I do not give my heart
lightly
My heart is not
a discarded item in a free box
Or a ripe yellow pear
Hanging at arms reach over a peeling fence
It is a shiny treasure
kept safe in the most secret of places
It is beautiful scent
That takes years to locate
And I intend to keep it that way :)
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
My Love…Esmerelda
My grandfather recently mentioned my love life in a phone conversation we had and I promptly replied, "my bicycle is my love life." I thought it was pretty fitting considering my current circumstances.
My love of cycling has been a lifelong development that began as a child. I saw photographic evidence of myself riding around balancing a fun-noodle on my helmet. But my biggest breakthrough in my relationship to cycling came recently when I was a bicycle courier in downtown Toronto for 4 glorious months. My senses were honed, my physical ability tested and my capacity for danger expanded. I joined a secret club, earned through my growing love and appreciation for that a bicycle can become when it is the source of your livelihood. It sustained me and in return I grew attached to this glorious machine: lemon-lime green with purple handlebar tape and a pink chain. Sleek and simple Esmerelda and I are good friends. She takes care of me: mentally, physically, socially and in return I have learned how to take care of her: regrease, lubricate, adjust. It's a symbiotic relationship.
My love of cycling has been a lifelong development that began as a child. I saw photographic evidence of myself riding around balancing a fun-noodle on my helmet. But my biggest breakthrough in my relationship to cycling came recently when I was a bicycle courier in downtown Toronto for 4 glorious months. My senses were honed, my physical ability tested and my capacity for danger expanded. I joined a secret club, earned through my growing love and appreciation for that a bicycle can become when it is the source of your livelihood. It sustained me and in return I grew attached to this glorious machine: lemon-lime green with purple handlebar tape and a pink chain. Sleek and simple Esmerelda and I are good friends. She takes care of me: mentally, physically, socially and in return I have learned how to take care of her: regrease, lubricate, adjust. It's a symbiotic relationship.
Monday, January 13, 2014
Pam
Wonderful things happen
when people utter your name
it's as if they summon
your spirit, your beauty
to the very tips of their tongue.
Pam, and then a flicker from
a match lights a candle, light floods
a room, then -
Pam, a soft whisper is carried
through someone's ear
secrets stored in the heart
all too long and then -
Pam, a friend smiles
after days of uncertainty
after hours of moments
without smiles
and so you
Pam, harbour magic in your bones
challenge fear by throwing
stones, you
grow and stretch and love
once there's nothing else left to be shown
only wonderful things
happen when people utter your name
By: Whitney French
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Black Babies Cost Less To Adopt
http://www.npr.org/2013/06/27/195967886/six-words-black-babies-cost-less-to-adopt
contributed by: Whitney French
contributed by: Whitney French
Don’t Forget To Hold It In
It’s fitting to begin this tale by informing you that my desk used to be a bathroom. We all know that behind the desk is a bathroom, and I know for sure ‘cause I hear all of your squeezy, breezy pee-shakes and poos. Now, I’m a gassy girl and between the desk and the bathroom is a space I like to call the “stink zone.” I consume foods I know will make the shift a fart, shit, and shart-filled fest. Holding it in is seldom an option. I like farting more than I like pretending I don’t fart. Don’t call me anal. I’m a loose cannon.
One particular evening I felt a fart quite inspired. He was conjured of a lethal mix of cabbage, lima bean, and potato, and he was begging to be let free, a-knocking at my back door from the inside. There’s a reason a lady such as myself lifts her bum to release her fumes. I fear a fart, instead of exiting stage pants, will travel upcrack to a place called the Red Cave, otherwise known as my vagina. As a real phenomenon, it goes without saying I don’t want an assfart hanging out in my pussy. Bad vibes, there. On this chilly winter’s night at the Second Cup Training Centre, a little butt guy made the trek up to Puss Valley, and this is what happened.
Fart Guy is met at the opening of the cave by the gatekeeper, a flippity-floppity talks-with-his-hands labia named Tough.
“Nah-nah-nah, where do you think you’re going, pal?” Tough’s tough.
“I was just hoping to get warm—” started the conniving little fart.
“We don’t let riffraff like you stink up joints like this. Take a hike before I eject you myself!”
“C’mon man,” farty-boy pleads, “you and I both know this club’s not exclusive.”
“For you it is, now scram!”
“Yeah, well, this place is old news anyway. It’s seen better days, dontcha think?”
“I ain’t saying nothin’.”
“Listen,” the vapour of anus tries, “I could spruce up this puss, build up a buzz, you know, event planning, promotions. You should see what I done next door! Tons of action!”
“I don’t wanna know.”
“I could be the breath of fresh air that loosens up this hole. Don’t you yearn for those red carpet days when not just any ol’ dick, tongue, and silicone prick came through here? I can attract the business, I’m tellin’ ya.”
“It was an exciting time…” Tough’s going soft! “Okay fine, just don’t stain the carpets. We need this place looking pristine, kapeesh?”
And so, several renovations, relaunches and painful realizations later, my vagina became the party capital of the Second Cup Training Centre. At long last. And Fart Guy? Well, he threw himself off Pussy Cliff and made the “stink zone” what it is today: a place no one wants to be. The office smells and it’s all your fault, Fart Guy! You’ve made working here a pleasure just for me.
By: Andrea Werhun
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Tree & Poetry Love
One of my best friends Whitney has a kick-ass blog and poetry-bucking tumblr site that I thought I would share because it's worth taking a look. She is featured on this blog with her poetry and contributions of relevant links and news stories. She is one of the most amazing women I know:
http://writinginatree.com
http://poetrybusker.tumblr.com
http://writinginatree.com
http://poetrybusker.tumblr.com
Friday, January 3, 2014
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Trying to find an apartment in Portland
My friends and I spent last night making a video for an apartment I want to land in Portland. Everyone cross your fingers for me :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XU22OFynWqY&feature=youtu.be
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XU22OFynWqY&feature=youtu.be
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